


Good Kind of Different

by molossiamerica (afjakwrites)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/F, F/M, High School AU, M/M, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Physical Disability, Quadriplegia, Wheelchairs, azula and ty lee are gf goals, ozai is trash so what's new, small descriptions of violence, this just in: local uncle adopts two angsty fire teens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 07:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16760458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afjakwrites/pseuds/molossiamerica
Summary: After an accident leaves Azula paralyzed from the neck down, she is forced to re-evaluate the world she thought she knew--and her part in it.





	1. Something Like Loss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [milleniumrex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milleniumrex/gifts).



> Warning: there is a small scene which has violent content as well as references to child abuse in this chapter.

Azula doesn’t think of her older brother often, but when she does she spends hours at a time with her mind on him. The footprints of her mind have left a well-worn path in her brain, a path she follows religiously when she thinks of Zuko. 

The path begins with their childhood. Azula doesn’t remember much of anything before she was about four years old, but what she does remember is her mother’s or her brother’s arms wrapped around her small form, cradling her in a way her father refused to. Her mother used to sing to her, she remembers, and quickly shoves the memory down. Zuko was too shy to sing to her, though. Instead he’d bend his head close to hers and whisper into her small ears. Azula, being an infant, isn’t sure what sorts of things her brother would whisper to her, but she reassures herself with the knowledge that it doesn’t matter anyway. Zuko was a sap, always has been. He had probably whispered all the mushy-gushy lovey-dovey words Azula told herself she didn’t want to hear. 

The next thing Azula remembers is her older brother at seven years old, her at five. They’d been making paper airplanes in the garden. Azula had snatched Zuko’s right out of the air and thrown it to the ground, stomping on it with her pristine black shoes. Zuko, of course, had started crying--he always did when he was younger. Hell, he’d hardly stopped when he was older. He’d always been weak that way. Azula hated him for it. Their mother had been appalled by Azula’s actions. She’d scolded Azula and scooped Zuko into her arms, running her slender fingers through the boy’s hair as she carted him off. Azula had watched, pouting and guilty, until her father approached and laid a hand in her hair.

“Don’t mind your brother,” she remembered Ozai saying in his usual gruff tone, glancing down at her with an odd glint in his eyes, “he and your mother don’t have what you and I have. Don’t let them make you think that’s a bad thing.”

Azula remembered grinning up at him and her father had lifted her off the ground much the way her mother had Zuko. Beaming, she’d leaned forward and placed a kiss to Ozai’s cheek the way she’d often seen Zuko kiss their mother. Ozai kept his eyes forward and walked into the house without acknowledging it. 

From there, Azula tries to block out any memories of Zuko--but even she can’t block out the day her brother left. It had started out as normal as any other, with the pair getting up for school and eating the breakfast the maid had prepared for them. As usual, Zuko and Azula sat as far away from each other as possible and Azula kept her eyes on her cellphone while Zuko stared resolutely at whatever book he was reading at the time--if Azula tried hard, she could remember that it had been _The Catcher in the Rye_ \--not that she cared. It was always useful to gain information on one’s enemy, that was all. She and Zuko had grown apart long ago, back when their mother had left, and she had no interest in ever growing close to him again. 

Then, they’d left for school. Zuko had just turned sixteen and Ozai had gifted him with a new car for the occasion--with the stipulation that he drove Azula to and from school with him, of course. Both Zuko and Azula hated it, but it was better than riding the bus, so every morning and afternoon they spent a tense fifteen minutes doing what they did at breakfast: staring resolutely at their respective tasks in total silence. When they arrived at school, Azula hopped out of the car and walked toward Ty Lee’s parking spot without a glance back. 

After school, Azula went to Ty Lee’s under the guise of gymnastics practice. They did attempt to practice, yes, but it quickly turned into a TV show binge on the floor of Ty Lee’s living room, the girls’ arms wrapped around each other and their faces pressed to one another’s. It was a rare moment of relaxation in Azula’s life and she relished in it for as long as she could, reluctantly kissing Ty Lee goodbye a few hours later when she was required to go home for dinner. She walked the few blocks to her house with a giddy spring in her step, sure that nothing could ruin her good mood. 

And, since the world was desperate to prove that good things couldn’t last, she was greeted with a loud shouting match between her father and brother the moment she stepped into her home. They were standing on opposite sides of the kitchen table, the coffee machine on and finishing up a pot. Azula wasn’t sure what they were fighting about, really--all she knew was that her brother was weak and her father hated it. Always had, really--it was obvious he favored Azula, especially after their mother left. 

Usually when Ozai scolded Zuko, his harsh words would be accompanied by a few harsh hits to Zuko’s face. Azula hated her brother, yes, but even she looked away when her father hit Zuko--she couldn’t stand to see her older brother stumble back with the force of the hits, never retaliating, never fighting back. He’d merely hang his head and promise through gritted teeth to do better next time. It made Azula want to scream. Zuko was weak, he’d never do better, he’d never be capable of what she was. Why did her father waste his time? Why did he try to beat it into Zuko so hard when he already had a perfect daughter right there? Azula wanted it to stop. She wanted to tell Ozai to leave Zuko alone, to put up with him until he graduated and then kick him out. She didn’t want to watch her brother suffer the way he had--she told herself it was because she was sick of seeing him acknowledged at all, but there was a pang in her chest that told her it was more than that. 

On this particular night, though, Zuko had shouted back. He needed a break, he claimed. He was working himself too hard over something he didn’t care about, he said. He hated sports, he shouted. He wanted to quit. 

Ozai had gone frighteningly red in the face and wheeled around, slamming his palm against his son’s pale cheek. Zuko had let out a cry of rage and lunged forward, reciprocating the hit with equal force. Ozai had paused, bewildered, for only a moment. And then he’d exploded. 

“ _How dare you_ ?” He’d shouted, seething. He’d grabbed Zuko by the shoulder, wrenched him forward and then thrown him roughly to the ground. Zuko’s head smacked against the tile of the kitchen floor and Azula brought a hand to her mouth to cover a cry of surprise. 

Ozai stalked to the table, snatching the pot of coffee from the machine. Zuko’s eyes widened in horror and he scrambled back as his father stormed toward him. 

“You want a break, huh? You think you deserve one? You’re weak. Useless. You’re being beaten out by your younger sister every single day and yet you think you deserve a break? I’ll tell you when you’ve had a break!” Ozai shouted, enraged. “ _Stand up and fight, damn it_ !”

Zuko scooted back until he hit the wall, shaking his head rapidly. Without hesitation, Ozai swung his arm out, throwing the pot directly at Zuko. The glass shattered, boiling hot coffee and glass connecting with the sensitive skin of Zuko’s face. The boy let out an agonized scream and raised a hand, cradling the left side of his face. Azula couldn’t turn her eyes away though she wanted to more than anything. She watched her brother as he curled in on himself, his shoulders shaking with sobs.

“Azula,” Ozai had said then, turning toward her with his fists clenched, “do you think you deserve a break?”

Azula looked toward Zuko once, fear gripping at her heart at the sight of his shaking form curled up on the floor. “No,” she said, forcing herself to stand tall and strong. “No, father, I don’t.”

Ozai nodded. “Good--you don’t. Call your uncle. I want this disgrace out of my house.” With that, he dropped his arm and stalked out of the room. 

Ozai’s brother, Iroh, was a disgrace to the family much like Zuko. He and Ozai had been raised by a rich family, and for a time they’d followed similar paths, both becoming extremely successful in their fields. Ozai had become a businessman whilst Iroh had went off to war, where he’d quickly rose through the ranks. Azula didn’t know the exact specifics of Iroh’s early life, but she knew that somewhere along the way he’d had a son, Lu Ten, and that Lu Ten had died some time ago. Iroh never spoke about him, but there was often a faraway look in his eyes that Azula knew was longing for his son. Ozai had always said his brother was weak. He’d given up a successful career in the military in order to open a tea shop, of all things. It made no sense--he was on a path to greatness and he’d given it up all over a bit of heartache. He’d grown soft, allowed himself to care too much for something that he knew could be taken from him. He’d stood too close to fire and gotten burned. 

Azula had wanted to say something then, to help her brother in some way. She hated him, this she was sure of--but even she couldn’t shake the terror that had seized her heart. She’d never seen as much as anguish in someone as she did in her brother’s dark eyes in the seconds before he was burned.

Azula had called Iroh with trembling hands, but forced herself to sound steady on the phone. “My father wants Zuko out of the house now. Come get him.” She said, steely-eyed as she hung up the phone and shoved it back into her pocket.

Then, she’d followed her father out of the room, fists clenched at her sides and her bottom lip trembling. She stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, casting a glance over her shoulder. Zuko was still curled up on the floor, sobbing, shaking, his hands pressed to his face. Azula heaved a sigh and left the room, holding back tears. She didn’t know what the odd feeling in her chest was, but it was something like what she felt when she realized her mother had left. Something like loss.

* * *

Azula hadn’t seen her brother since. Ty Lee had seen him a few times since he’d left a year prior and had broached the topic with Azula, informing her girlfriend that he was working at Iroh’s tea shop. She’d even suggested that paying him a visit would be fun, but Azula had rolled her eyes and scoffed before explaining that her brother was a weakling. She had no interest in him anymore. Ty Lee pointed out in her usual gentle tone that Azula had inquired after his face, wondering how the burn had healed, but Azula had shrugged it off as curiosity. She didn’t care for her brother. Not at all.

Ty Lee didn’t press the subject. This was one of the many things Azula loved about her girlfriend--she was so _gentle_ , sometimes overwhelmingly so. She was able to stand up for herself and others without yelling, without anger, without aggression or manipulation. She was kind and sweet in a way that Azula usually attributed to weakness, but there was nothing weak about Ty Lee. She possessed incredible strength both physically and mentally, a feat which Azula marveled over. She’d never known anyone who could be both kind and powerful. When she was younger, she hadn’t even believed it was possible. 

* * *

“Mrs. LaSalle, Azula broke my toy truck!”

“Azula! Why would you do that?!” 

“He wouldn’t let me have it!”

“Did you consider asking Liu if you could share it?”

“You’re supposed to fight for what you want! Sharing is for people who are too afraid to!”

* * *

Azula hadn’t understood why she couldn’t make friends when she was younger. She was aggressive, yes, but that was how it was _supposed_ to be. Aggression was power. Why else would her father praise her for acting on it and encourage her to use it in all that she did? Why else would he mock her brother for lacking it? Her teachers were constantly scolding Azula, giving her time-outs and taking away her gold stars, but she didn’t care. Her father told her that weak-minded people tried to hold other people back by trying to _play nice, to share and get along and hold hands and sing_ . She didn’t need all of that, he said. She needed to be strong. She didn’t have to worry about the other kids--they’d only hold her back in the end anyway. _Like your brother._

Azula had accepted this easily, told it to herself every time she sat in the sand and smashed anthills by herself because no one wanted to play with her at recess. All of her classmates were weak, she reminded herself. They wanted to play together because they weren’t strong enough to be alone like she was. They needed to rely on other people--she didn’t need _anyone_ . 

And then she’d been approached by the new girl. Ty Lee had arrived at their elementary school earlier in the day and had immediately made friends with the rest of the class. She was bubbly and sweet, happy to raise her hand and speak in class or talk with her classmates. She’d even done a backflip for show and tell, which had impressed her classmates even more. By the time recess rolled around, Ty Lee had her classmates surrounding her asking her to teach them how to do a flip--but she couldn’t help but notice the dark-haired girl sitting by herself in the sandbox. 

* * *

“Hi! I’m Ty Lee. Can I play with you?”

“You gotta fight me first.”

“Why?”

“So we know who’s stronger!”

“How about we just say you’re stronger?”

“Don’t you want to be the strongest?”

“No. I wanna be the fastest.”

“Well, being strong is more important than being fast.”

“Maybe to you.”

“ _ Duh _ , to me.” 

“Well I wanna be fast, so you can be strong.”

“...Okay.” 

* * *

Azula and Ty Lee had been inseparable since. Despite Ty Lee’s popularity and lively social life, Azula had only ever managed to make friends with her. Ty Lee didn’t seem to mind Azula’s abrasive personality; her own easygoing outlook on life allowed her take Azula’s sarcastic comments and aggressive behavior in stride. At first, Azula had played with Ty Lee solely because she wanted the competition. She didn’t think she was evenly matched with any of her other classmates--they were all weak and boring. Ty Lee, though, she had an athletic ability that rivaled Azula’s--it made her a fantastic rival in Azula’s mind, even though the girl didn’t seem to care much for competition. She played along with Azula’s frequent challenges, often winning them, but she didn’t see any need to gloat afterward, nor was she angry if she lost. No matter what the outcome of their games were, she’d congratulate Azula and claim that they both did a great job.

Eventually, Azula had grown tired of gloating over her victories or yelling at Ty Lee when she lost. She found that she liked being able to do what she wanted to without having to worry about whether she won or lost--it was nice to be able to interact with someone else without the constant pressure of being superior. By the time they started middle school, Azula had grown genuinely fond of Ty Lee. She no longer viewed her endless patience and kindness as a weakness, but instead as a virtue. It was a welcome reprieve from the constant pressure she faced at home--not that she would ever tell her father that, lest he think she was being too easy on herself and forbid her from seeing Ty Lee. He had always been wary of their friendship and had frequently warned Azula about the dangers of caring too much for one person. 

* * *

“Remember, Azula, getting too attached will only hurt you in the end. She could turn on you any time.”

“I know, papa.”

“She laughs too much. She’s mocking you.”

“I know.”

“Don’t ever let her beat you, Azula.”

“I won’t.”

“Good girl.”

* * *

Azula knew in the back of her mind that it was stupid of her to be so close to Ty Lee, but she couldn’t help it. By the time realized she’d grown attached to the girl, it was too late to pull away--she liked her too much. In her freshman year, Azula had realized with a start that she cared for Ty Lee--genuinely so. She didn’t just respect her in the way Azula respected worthy opponents--no, she respected Ty Lee’s beliefs, her likes and her dislikes, her aspirations. For the first time in her life, she sincerely wanted something for someone else instead of herself.

She wanted what was best for Ty Lee. She’d gone to great lengths to prove it despite her father’s instructions to the contrary. She’d even skipped a swim practice to comfort Ty Lee after her friend had gotten into a particularly emotional fight with her mother. The decision had made her father take her phone and computer away from her for a week, as well as forcing her to go to the YMCA’s pool every day after school for a month in order to practice on her own time. Azula hadn’t minded--it had been worth it just to hold her best friend tight, to reassure her that everything would be alright. Especially when Ty Lee’s crying had stopped and she’d gifted Azula with one of her signature smiles, beautiful even with her lipgloss smeared across her cheeks and black mascara streaking down her face in wet lines. It was the first time in Azula’s life that she’d ever known herself to be gentle, and she was endlessly proud of herself for it even knowing that she shouldn’t be. Her father was right--Ty Lee could turn on her at any moment. And perhaps it made her a fool, but Azula couldn’t bring herself to worry about it. She knew that even if Ty Lee turned on her, it would have been worth it. And, if she was honest with herself, she trusted Ty Lee too much to ever really entertain the possibility of her leaving. 

And Ty Lee hadn’t, not yet. Even with all the friends she had, the parties she was constantly getting invited to, the boys who practically lined up at her locker looking to take her out, she always seemed to favor Azula. She dragged Azula along to almost every social event she could, and declined invitations to the ones that wouldn’t allow Azula to come. She even turned down six different boys who asked her to the homecoming dance in order to go with Azula in their freshman year. Azula remembered standing against the wall, her arms folded across her chest and feeling self-conscious in a way she hated with Ty Lee’s makeup covering her face and a frilly red dress hugging her slim figure. Ty Lee had stood beside her the whole night, a glass of punch in her perfectly manicured hand, watching the crowd of their classmates dancing with a sweet smile. She didn’t complain about Azula being boring or antisocial--she just smiled happily and spoke cheerfully to her best friend, rejecting several offers to dance whenever she was approached. 

* * *

“Why don’t you go dance?”

“‘Cause the person I want to ask me hasn’t yet.”

“There aren’t many people here who  _ haven’t  _ asked you, Ty Lee.”

“There’s a few. ‘Sides, I don’t think she wants to dance with me.”

“She?”

“Mhm.”

“...What does she look like?”

“Pretty brown eyes, black hair, red dress… She’s gorgeous, but she hates school dances. I’m surprised I convinced her to come tonight.”

“You--You want me to--”

“You don’t have to, Azula. I know you don’t like me the way I--”

“I do.”

“What?”

“I--I like you. Like that.”

* * *

It was one of the only times Azula could remember being embarrassed, but she didn’t care. Not when Ty Lee took her by the hand and led her to the dancefloor. Not when Ty Lee guided her hands to rest on her slim waist, or when Ty Lee wrapped her arms around her neck and scooted forward until their faces were only inches apart. Especially not when, at the end of the song, Ty Lee leaned in and gave Azula her very first kiss--the first of many that they would share. 

They left the dance hand-in-hand and walked down to an ice cream parlor not far from the school. Azula had never had as much fun as she did then, sitting in a corner booth with Ty Lee across from her, their hands joined across the table. They talked excitedly, and for once Azula didn’t even bring up sports in passing--she didn’t care about any sort of competition, not when Ty Lee looked so gorgeous in her pale pink dress and her hair piled atop her head in a curly updo. They spoke loudly and laughed even louder, enjoying each other’s company without caring for anything else. 

Azula looked back on the memory with fondness. Briefly, she wondered if other people lived like that all the time--if they could bring themselves to trust more than one person the way she trusted Ty Lee. She thought of her older brother and Iroh—how compassionate and sensitive Zuko had been his whole life, how carefree and loving Iroh had been.

* * *

“Uncle, Azula ripped the wings off a butterfly!”

“It was flying in my face!” 

“Azula, you must be gentle with insects. Even they have a purpose in this life.”

“How? They can’t even do anything useful!”

“Just because they don’t provide anything to you doesn’t mean that they aren’t useful. Every living thing is here to do something that has meaning to them.”

“How would you know? You’re not a butterfly!”

“No, but I am alive like one, and so are the both of you.”

* * *

Azula’s throat constricted painfully. She thought of her older brother curled up on the floor of their kitchen and the small, wingless butterfly laying limp and helpless in her palm. She wondered how Zuko was doing. She wondered if there was a way to give a butterfly its wings back once they’d been pulled off.

She’d been wondering a lot of things lately. 


	2. Push Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: description of an injury resulting in paralysis, and drowning.

Azula collapsed down upon one of the rickety pool chairs set up outside of the hotel’s pool, sighing in relief. It had been a particularly brutal day of swim competitions, and she was eternally grateful to have Ty Lee with her. It was pure luck that Ty Lee’s gymnastics team had decided to stay at the same hotel as the swim team being that their competitions were occuring at the same time. Azula’s competition had ended two hours ago, and she’d waited impatiently for Ty Lee to come back from her own ever since. The moment Ty Lee stepped into the hotel, Azula was pestering her to go down to the pool. Ty Lee, always agreeable, had cheerfully obliged, and the girls changed quickly and set off to the pool arm-in-arm.

“How’d you do today?” Ty Lee asked as she laid her pink beach towel down atop the pool chair before taking her place beside Azula.

“Good,” Azula said, gritting her teeth as she thought back to the day’s competition. “First place in two of my races and second in the other. I’ll do better tomorrow.”

“Azula, that’s great! Even second place is amazing! I’ve heard Northwestern’s got some of the best swimmers in the state, so if you’re beating them you’re doing great.” Ty Lee praised with one of her usual sweet grins.

Azula felt the corners of her lips pulling upward in a smile despite herself. She’d never been able to stay annoyed for very long with Ty Lee around, especially not when she was being showered with compliments by the most perfect person she knew. Azula leaned over and took Ty Lee’s hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thanks,” she replied, looking into her girlfriend’s eyes meaningfully.

Ty Lee beamed back at her and blew a kiss, then retracted her hand. The girls had to be careful about giving their relationship away and were wary of their PDA. Holding hands and a fake kiss was innocent enough, but it couldn’t go much further without Ozai forcing Azula to cut off all contact with Ty Lee. He’d always been suspicious of their friendship, and he seemed to grow more and more annoyed with Ty Lee every day.

He warned Azula repeatedly about the dangers of dependency and over attachment, which she tried her best to take to heart. Even so, there was no fighting the way she felt for Ty Lee--it was too late for her to cut her girlfriend off and she often felt ashamed of her weakness for the girl, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that Ty Lee was her sole exception. Outside of Ty Lee, Azula didn’t need anyone else. She could do it all on her own, get by without help. She was strong enough to live in isolation.

“What about you? How did you do?”

“Great! The whole team did amazing. I was really proud.” Ty Lee answered, avoiding telling her own scores as usual.

Azula knew she’d done perfect or close to it--Ty Lee was always the highest-scoring member of their school’s gymnastics team, and yet she insisted on keeping quiet about it. Ty Lee’s modesty was a quality that both vexed Azula and endeared her to Ty Lee. On the one hand, she thought that Ty Lee should be proud of her achievements--she shouldn’t have to hide them away in order to make anyone feel better. If her teammates wanted to be like Ty Lee, they simply needed to work as hard as she did. On the other hand, Azula knew that Ty Lee _was_ proud; she was simply quiet about it. She was sensitive to her teammate’s feelings and therefore refrained from bragging, content in the knowledge of her own success. She didn’t need anyone else to validate her.

Azula told herself that she didn’t, either.

“That’s good. I’m glad you all did well, although I know you did the best.” Azula retorted, turning to lay face-up. She closed her eyes. “Are you as tired as I am?”

Ty Lee laughed. “Nope, I’m even more,” she teased.

Just as Azula opened her mouth to retort, she felt a shadow fall over her. She opened her eyes and sat up, surprised to see her father standing in front of her with his arms folded across his chest and a disapproving glare set upon her.

“Hi, Mr. Fire!” Ty Lee chirped from Azula’s side.

Ozai hardly spared her a glance. “Hello, Ty Lee,” he greeted sharply. “Azula, I hope you take a hard look at how you did today before you get too out of focus. You embarrassed me today. I thought you could do better than second place. Unless you think you need a break like your brother--”

“No!’ Azula interrupted quickly, cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment.. “No, I don’t need a break. I was just--Ty Lee and I were just talking for a minute. I was going to practice in a little while.”

“Talking takes up practice time,” was all Ozai said, shaking his head disapprovingly as he walked out of the pool room.

Azula and Ty Lee looked to each other, Azula shaking with shame and Ty Lee with her brows furrowed in obvious concern.

“Azula,” Ty Lee started, her voice gentle in a way that made Azula want to melt, “don’t listen to him. You worked hard today and you did great in all your races! Plus, you shouldn’t overexert yourself. Get some rest and focus on tomorrow if you have to, but don’t push yourself too hard today. It’ll just make it harder on you tomorrow!”

Azula shook her head. “No, he’s right. I’m not taking this seriously enough. Second place is embarrassing.” She cast a glance over her shoulder, noting that her father was now standing outside the pool room with a cup of tea in one hand, watching them through the glass. She grinned at Ty Lee and stood up, stretching out quickly. “Watch this,” she said.

Ty Lee rolled her eyes jokingly, but she sat up and watched her girlfriend with interest anyway.

Azula took a running start at the pool. She took a deep breath as she rushed forward, attempting to clear her mind of anything aside from swimming. The sharp criticism from her father lingered in her mind despite her attempts to push it out. Azula leaps gracefully into the pool, taking a dive, and for a moment her worries faded as she cuts cleanly into the clear water.

Then, a sharp pain shot throughout her as her head slammed against the concrete bottom of the pool. Her neck snapped backward with a sickening crack and Azula opened her mouth to let out a cry of pain, involuntarily swallowing a mouthful of water. She immediately tried to kick her way to the surface, only to grow panicked upon the realization that she couldn’t make her legs or arms move at all. Panicked, Azula tried to push the water out of her lungs with little success. She could see black spots entering her vision as the water pushed into her, stealing all of the breath from her still body. She wanted desperately to thrash, to kick, to do _anything_ that could get her to the surface. She’s dizzied with pain and she needed air, she needed to breathe more than she’s ever needed anything.

Then, a splash resounded above her. Azula’s vision was fading fast, but she made out the familiar manicured hands of her girlfriend as they reach out to her. Ty Lee wrapped her arms around Azula’s waist and then she was being pulled upward, her arms and legs heavy and limp as she was wrenched to the surface of the water.

Azula took several gasping breaths, coughing up the water she’d inhaled along the way. A troubling mix of pain and numbness has spread throughout her body and she realized abruptly that she was crying, but even she can’t bring herself to care.

“I can’t move!” She cried out, sobbing, “I can’t move!”

* * *

Azula woke up in the hospital with her father and Ty Lee at her side and a doctor standing above her. When she opened her eyes and shifted her head slightly, she gasped at the pain it caused and immediately stills. Her memory is hazy for a moment, her mind failing to understand what had happened that had caused so much pain. She looked into Ty Lee’s worried face, realized her girlfriend had been crying, and she wanted to reach out and take her hand.

Unthinking, Azula commanded herself to do so. She frowned. That’s odd--her right arm won’t cooperate. She strained harder, willing the arm to move, but it laid still at her side. Azula tried her left arm instead and gasped in frustration when it too refused to budge. A quick test of her legs revealed the same results.

“What--what’s wrong with me?” She gasped.

The doctor, a slender woman with kind eyes, turned to her grimly. “Can you move at all?” She asked.

Azula bit back tears, afraid of looking weaker than she must already. “No,” she answered, cursing the shakiness of her voice.

The doctor nodded as though she’d expected this response. She looked down at the clipboard in her hand and then back to Azula. “Can you tell me what happened before you were pulled out of the pool?” She asked. “It was Ty Lee here who pulled you out, wasn’t it?”

Azula nodded. “Yes. I-I--I dove into the pool, but my angle was off,” she admitted, ashamed. “I hit the bottom and my head went back. I heard my neck crack,” she said, choking back a sob at the memory. It had been the most terrifying moment of her life--knowing that she would die if she didn’t get air, and yet being totally helpless, stuck underwater and unable to save herself.

The doctor leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder at the same time as Ty Lee leaned forward and took her hand. Azula looked to her, terrified, desperate to respond to Ty Lee in any way; to curl her fingers around her girlfriend’s hand, to give her a little squeeze, even to pull away out of embarrassment-- _anything_ that indicated that she could move. But she didn’t. Couldn’t. Her hand just laid there, useless, as Ty Lee gripped it tightly in her own.

“Azula,” the doctor started, “I… This is hard to say and I know it will be even harder to hear. You… You already know you were injured badly, I’m sure. But… Based on your current state, it’s… It’s likely that you are permanently paralyzed.”

Ozai leapt out of his chair. “Bullshit!” He cried, his face red with anger and his fists balled at his sides. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Mr. Fire--” Ty Lee started.

“You stay out of this! You’re probably the reason she was distracted in the first place!” Ozai shouted, making Ty Lee recoil with fear. Azula felt anger burn inside of her, appalled that her father would yell at Ty Lee in such a way. Still, she feared him too much to stand up to him and instead gave Ty Lee an apologetic look. Again, she wished that she could squeeze her girlfriend’s hand for comfort and willed her hand to move even the slightest bit with no success.

“Sir!” The doctor exclaimed, her face cool aside from the twitch of one thin black brow. “I understand that this is upsetting, but you need to calm down--”

“Don’t you dare tell _my_ daughter what she can and can’t do. You don’t know what she’s capable of! I don’t care what it takes; she _will_ make a full recovery! Now, I want a list of all of our treatment options and I want her to start as many as she possibly can as soon as she can.” He demanded.

The doctor scowled. “Sir, I think what you should be looking into is ways that your daughter can continue to lead a normal life. We have some fantastic resources, including a support group for quadriplegics and--”

“There is no such thing as a normal life if she’s stuck like _that_ ,” Ozai spat contemptuously. “Azula is willing to put in the work to get better and she will. No child of mine is going to take the easy way out.”

Despite Ozai’s threatening posture and large stature, the doctor still didn’t seem intimidated. She merely sighed heavily and shook her head. “Fine,” she acquiesced. “I’ll bring you some pamphlets for the support group anyway. Maybe I should bring some pamphlets for an anger management class too,” she said coldly to Ozai before turning on her heel and walking coldly out of the room.

Ozai dropped down into his chair and leaned over Azula’s bedside. “See, Azula, she’s the type of person who wants to hold you back. She’s a failure herself, and now she wants other people to fail just to make herself feel better. She wants you to give up and accept this, she wants you to accept _failure_ , but we know better than to let that happen. When people push, you push back harder. Understand?”

Azula swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. “Yes, father.”

* * *

For several weeks Azula was poked and prodded by Ozai’s various doctors and contacts. Every day an endless stream of men and women poured in and out of Azula’s hospital room, running so many tests that she eventually lost track of all that had been done to her. She did physical therapy a few times too, growing nearly as frustrated with herself as Ozai was by her lack of movement. No matter how hard she strained mentally, her body refused to respond to her in the slightest.

Azula hated it. She hated what she’d become--it was all so embarrassing, so frustrating, so _limiting._ She didn’t want to be weak, and her father had made it abundantly clear that to be a quadriplegic was to be weak. Hell, refusing not to push one’s way through _any_ injury was weak in Ozai’s mind. Thus, Azula forced herself to endure the constant tests for her father’s sake despite her rapidly dwindling hope. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint one of the two people in her life who cared for her.

Still, Azula admitted that Ty Lee was much easier to deal with. Her girlfriend’s daily visits were a welcome respite from the nightmare Azula seemed to be living in. It was obvious that Ty Lee was upset by what had happened--she’d shed more than her fair share of tears over the past three weeks--but she was strong. She held it together, kept her mouth shut when Azula mentioned her father’s attempts to cure her.

Plus, she didn’t stare at Azula with that pitying look in her eyes the way all of the nurses and doctors who encountered her did. They treated her as though she were fragile, as if one wrong touch could shatter her. It infuriated Azula, and she’d lashed out at more than one member of the hospital staff as a result, but at least Ty Lee didn’t treat her that way. Ty Lee didn’t hesitate to touch Azula as she always had, tracing her fingers along Azula’s pale arms while they watched TV together or giving her a playful shove to the shoulder when they joked around together.

Ty Lee almost made the whole thing bearable to Azula, if only for a few hours at a time. Every day without fail Azula swallowed her tears when her girlfriend bid her goodbye, no matter how much time Ty Lee had spent at the hospital with her. Azula had never felt so alone in her life, even with the constant presence of doctors and nurses and her father.

She hated herself. Really, she did. She was pathetic. She wanted more than anything to beat this, to stand up and walk. To move her arms. God, to do anything. What she wouldn’t give to scratch her nose when it itched, to change the channel on TV. The simple things--Azula didn’t ask for much. At night when she was alone, she closed her eyes and turned her head up toward the ceiling, promising whatever deity was up there that she would be better if only they’d free her of this curse. She’d work harder, she promised, she’d never slack off again. She’d do whatever it took, she swore. But still Azula woke each day the same as she had the last, and gradually she began to lose hope, as did her father.

No matter how many specialists Ozai brought in to look at Azula, the results stayed the same. She had a 1% chance of ever walking again. Azula was numb to the words by now--she’d heard them so often that eventually that horrible, sinking dread that made her want to vomit had subsided--but Ozai certainly wasn’t. He made a fuss every time, shouting at whomever had given him such results before throwing them out. Then, he’d turn to Azula and tell her not to listen. They were wrong, he said. She would walk again.

And then, one day, Ozai stopped.

“I’m sorry, sir, but ‘recovery’ in the way that you mean is almost impossible for her. She can still lead a normal life, but I’m afraid that Azula will most likely never walk again, nor is she likely to regain much movement at all. There are still many options for her, ways that we can improve her life and keep her in good health.”

Ozai pursed his lips, eerily calm. “...I see,” he said after a moment. He turned to the hospital doctor, who looked as though he wanted to run in the opposite direction. He’d been on the receiving end of Ozai’s wrath far too many times during Azula’s stay at the hospital, but it seemed he would finally be spared from it. “Do whatever he recommends for Azula’s care and send her somewhere where she’ll be properly cared for.” He instructed.

“Of course, sir,” the doctor said, astonished. “We have several fantastic programs designed to improve the lives of people like Azula at a few different facilities--”

“Send her wherever Doctor Lang wants,” Ozai interrupted, already turning on his heel and heading toward the door.

Azula’s mouth fell open in shock, panic immediately setting in at the sight of Ozai walking away. “Father--!” She called out, wishing more than anything that she could miraculously leap out of bed if only to grab onto his wrist and wrench him back.

Ozai didn’t even pause as he walked out of the room.

* * *

Azula spent the next few weeks despondent despite being at what was surely the most high end care facility in the state. She had a spacious room to herself and the nurses were so kind to her Azula almost felt guilty for snapping at them. Ozai’s assistant came to visit her and delivered a credit card courtesy of her father--she was allowed to order herself whatever she wanted, as long as the price was within reason. Azula knew she should feel grateful, but she spent nearly an hour after Ozai’s assistant had left glaring daggers at the black plastic he’d placed on her desk.

Ty Lee still made it a point to stop by for a visit daily. Each day they ordered food with Azula’s new card--most days, Ty Lee brought a movie for them to watch together and then curled up in bed beside Azula, feeding her whatever food they’d ordered and chattering cheerfully over the movie. Azula tried her best to be positive for Ty Lee’s sake, but she was shutting down and she knew it. She loved Ty Lee, really, she did; but she hated her, too.

Azula would give anything to be Ty Lee, to be able walk and move her arms and change the channel and get up and leave at the end of the day. Before long, Azula had recoiled entirely into herself. Even Ty Lee’s constant visits couldn’t break her out of her depressed stupor for long. She spent most of her time staring despondently in front of her; even during her physical therapy sessions Azula remained numb, dark eyes dead and blank.

And then, just when she thought life couldn’t possibly get any worse, Zuko showed up.

“...Azula,” Zuko said carefully as he stepped into her hospital room, gaping.

Azula’s jaw nearly hit the floor in shock. She could hardly believe she was seeing her older brother in person. It had been over a year since she’d last seen his face and God, a year had changed a lot. Most notably was the scarred, burned skin which now covered most of the left side of his face.

“What are you doing here?” Azula asked, shooting him a bitter glare.

To Azula’s surprise, Zuko didn’t get angry with her despite her obvious annoyance. “We heard what happened and we wanted to--to see you. Where’s Ozai?”

Azula’s brows shot up in the air. She should have known her brother would try to disconnect himself from their father after all that had happened, but there was still something odd about hearing Zuko refer to him by his first name. She rolled her eyes and pretended pain wasn’t overtaking her at the mention of her father, that terrible feeling of abandonment like a physical weight on her chest, suffocating her. “He hasn’t been here,” she said. “I haven’t seen him since the hospital, so if you came to get your revenge--”

“No,” Zuko interrupted with a huff. “That’s not--I don’t want to see him.”

Iroh stepped into the room then, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a small gift basket in the other. Azula blinked rapidly, hardly able to believe her eyes. She’d always thought Iroh was weak, but there was something about the love and concern in his eyes then that made her throat close up.

“Azula,” Iroh greeted, coming forward without hesitation.

The young girl blinked rapidly, shocked to realize that she was holding back tears. “Hello, Uncle.”


	3. The Other Part

“How are you feeling?” Iroh asked, resting an impossibly warm and gentle hand on Azula’s shoulder. For some reason, she didn’t even wish she could push it away in her head. The touch is the most comforting thing she’s felt in what seemed like eons. 

“Fine,” she answered. “Bored.” 

Zuko looked uncomfortable, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and his shoulders raised, but he still stepped forward and met Azula’s eyes. “We would have come sooner if we knew…” 

“How did you find out?” Azula asked, although she already had an idea.

“Ty Lee came to see us last night.” Iroh told her. “We don’t want to bother you, Azula. We understand that this is a difficult time for you and the last thing we want to do is cause you any more pain or stress.”

Azula scowled. “Then why are you here?” She snapped upon reflex, regretting it immediately when Zuko’s brow twitched and he dropped his gaze to the ground. Her mind called forward the image of her father with his back turned to her, walking away from her, and suddenly Azula wanted to reach out and grab Iroh and Zuko by their hands, keep them where they were. Right next to her. She’d nearly opened her mouth to apologize, so desperate to keep them there (although she couldn’t explain why she cared so much), but Iroh smiled gently as if she’d said something sweet rather than sour.

“Well, we are here partly because we wanted to make sure that you were doing alright. Ty Lee said that Ozai hasn’t come to see you.”

Ah, so that was it. They wanted something from her. They weren’t there for her--they were there because she was weak now, she could be easily taken advantage of. They wanted to gloat, to laugh in her face and say  _ I told you so.  _ Again, Azula’s pretty face twisted in a malicious scowl and she glared darkly at her uncle. 

“What’s the other part of why you’re here, then?” She bit out harshly. 

Iroh’s patient smile didn’t waver even for a moment. Despite her obvious contempt, his brown eyes were swimming with an affection Azula had only ever seen directed at her by three other people in her lifetime; her mother and Zuko, both of whom were traitors and weaklings, and Ty Lee. It was so startlingly open and refreshing that Azula nearly let tears fall. 

“We want to take you back home with us.” Iroh answered without hesitation.

Azula’s face froze. For a moment, all she could do was blink incredulously, her dark eyes flickering between her uncle and her brother in utter disbelief. Zuko had finally raised his eyes to her and, to her utter shock, his black eyes shone with hope and--dare she think it?--affection. Could it be true that they didn’t want to gloat? Was it possible for two of the people she’d been the most cruel to to show her such genuine affection? Azula could hardly believe it. She wanted to deny it, to yell at them to leave and never come back, but she couldn’t. 

Her heart had seized with unbridled hope, wanting so desperately for Iroh’s words to be true. She tried to maintain her composure, but when she spoke her voice came out small and shaky despite herself. “You-- _ why _ ?” 

“Because you are young and you should be out in the world living your life, not cooped up in a facility like this.” Iroh insisted. 

Azula looked down to her despondent body, limp and useless. “Not much of a life to live,” she said bitterly. 

Iroh brought a hand to her head and brushed the hair away from her face, shaking his head. “That’s not true,” he replied. “You have so much more potential than Ozai led you to believe. You and everyone else like you. I am sure it is painful and I will not try to downplay the pain and hardships you will endure--but at the very least, I can assure you that coming home with us will allow you to be with loved ones as you recover. Plus, we are widely known to have the best tea in the city--you will get it for free from now on,” he beamed. 

Azula would have flung her arms around Iroh right then and there had she been able to. It was as though all of the pent-up resentment and anger she felt toward him, all of her hatred for him, had melted away. She realized instantly that Iroh wasn’t weak--far from it. He was incredibly strong, stronger than most others. He’d taken in Zuko when he’d had nowhere else to go without hesitation--Hell, he’d arrived at Ozai’s home to pick him up within twenty minutes of receiving Azula’s call--and now he was doing the same thing again. He was offering to take her in, give her a home, a family.  _ He was saying he loved her _ . 

Still, there was one problem. Azula looked to her older brother, who had been silent the entire time. He met her gaze and she gulped, suddenly afraid to ask her question. She needed an answer and she knew it, but what if it wasn’t what she wanted to hear? What if Zuko couldn’t forgive her, couldn’t see past what had conspired between them for years and years?

“...You’re okay with this?” 

Zuko looked directly into her face and nodded. “If you want to get better, I want to help you. We both do.”

Iroh fixed Zuko with a happy smile and patted the boy on the back once. “We already discussed it last night. We are both willing to help you with whatever you need.”

“You’ll need a car that’s wheelchair accessible,” Azula said, testing them. 

“Of course.”

“And a nurse.”

“That’s no issue.”

“And I’m behind in school, so I’ll need to catch up.”

“Azula, all of that is fine. We already know, and we’re going to get you whatever you need, alright? You don’t have to worry. We wouldn’t have come if we were uncertain about it at all.” 

Zuko nodded. “We’re not walking out on you,” he said softly, looking to his sister with a gentility that shocked Azula. 

He had changed so much since Azula had last seen him. Even with his face scarred and burned, he looked better than he ever had when she lived with him. He looked less stressed, more fulfilled. There was a light in his eyes that Azula hadn’t seen since she was a child--a light Ozai had worked tirelessly to snuff out when Zuko was young. He looked _ happy.  _ Really, truly happy. 

Azula began to cry. She hated herself for it, but she couldn’t make it stop. Tears were spilling down her cheeks without her control, all of the emotion she’d held within suddenly pouring out of her. She wanted to shove the heels of her palms into her eyes and rub them away, but instead she squeezed her eyes shut and sniffled, turning her head away from her uncle and brother as if they hadn’t already seen it. She was pathetic. She knew she was. They would hate her for her weakness. 

“Oh, Azula,” Iroh sighed aloud, and suddenly Azula was enveloped in a comforting warmth. She opened her eyes, blinking through her tears to find that Iroh had pulled her into him, wrapping his arms tightly around her and giving her a squeeze. With one hand he stroked through her hair, the other patting her back gently. 

Azula looked past him to Zuko, who was standing behind him with his brows furrowed in concern. When he met her eyes, his eyes softened and he nodded slightly, mouthing “it’s alright.” Azula nodded, trembling, and closed her eyes again as she continued to cry. 

* * *

The next few weeks were a period of transition for Azula, who had officially moved out of the care facility and into Zuko and Iroh’s shared home. The home, which was connected to the tea shop, was actually rather spacious. She’d been given a large room with an expansive window that nearly stretched across an entire wall and looked out onto the forest directly behind the house. Her bedroom was directly next to Zuko’s, while Iroh’s was across the hall.

To Azula’s surprise, Ty Lee was welcome to visit her whenever, and often sat down with her, Zuko, and Iroh, to have meals--another new concept to Azula, who was used to eating alone. She spent much of her time observing her brother and Iroh, astonished by the easy, loving relationship that existed between them. 

Iroh had never shied away from making his love known, and was therefore incredibly affectionate with both Zuko and Azula. Zuko, however--Azula remembered a time when her brother had been incredibly bitter, far too reluctant to show kindness to anyone, let alone love. Thus, seeing him so calm and easygoing was a shock. He was still hot-tempered and somewhat uptight, yes, but there was a softness behind his dark eyes that she’d never seen before. 

What was most shocking, though, was that the sweetness behind his eyes was not just limited to Iroh; Zuko didn’t seem to have any trouble giving Azula affection, either. It was obvious he expected her to work hard, and Azula had thrown herself back into physical therapy with renewed vigor although the majority of her body remained motionless. Still, though, Zuko never offered a word of protest when he had to help her. He sat at her side for several hours most days, helping her study to catch up with what she’d missed in school so that she could start with the rest of her class at the beginning of the next school year. 

Azula, still embarrassed by her helplessness and beaten down by her lack of progress in physical therapy, had asked her brother why it was that he had agreed to help her so easily after all that she’d done to him.

Zuko glanced over to her, a knowing smile settled upon his face. “Well,” he started, glancing out of Azula’s bedroom window and into the deep forest, “when Iroh came in and found me after Ozai hurt me, he didn’t hesitate to take care of me. He picked me up like I was still a little kid, tears running down his face, shaken… And I saw that strength and love can coexist.” He said, smiling fondly. 

Azula quirked a brow, confused and troubled by the story. “How can you smile about something like that?” She asked, somewhat annoyed, and immediately regretted her bad attitude. It didn’t seem like Zuko or Iroh would ever leave her alone, but she couldn’t help but to feel as though one mistake on her part could lead to the pair abandoning her. 

“Because he taught me that I was weak not to love. And I know that you were taught the opposite, so I don’t blame you. I just want to be here for you.” Zuko replied, sounding much older than he was. Sounding an awful lot like Iroh, Azula realized, and told her brother so. 

“Yeah,” Zuko laughed, “I guess I do. I don’t think that’s much of an insult anymore, though.” 

* * *

Ty Lee’s frequent visits do wonders for Azula. Much to her girlfriend’s surprise, Ty Lee was more than happy to come along on Azula’s physical therapy appointments, staying by her side and offering words of encouragement when appropriate. Together Azula and Ty Lee learned about ways in which Azula could regain her independence, including a straw which she can breathe into to move her wheelchair and a mouthstick that can be used to turn the pages of books and magazines or send texts.

Ty Lee was endlessly patient, as always. Her bubbly personality was absolutely infectious, and Iroh quickly took a liking to her. More often than not, when Ty Lee visited she ended up spending a portion of her time conversing with Iroh and Zuko. Of course, the majority of her time was spent with Azula--seated in her room, painting her girlfriend’s nails their signature red color, showing her new music, and gossipping.

To her surprise, Azula felt as if she’d suddenly gained freedom. There was still a looming sense of inadequacy which gnaws at the back of her mind--especially when she has to suck up her pride and ask for something simple--but she could hardly believe how  _ liberating _ it was to have fun with her girlfriend without worrying about productivity or efficiency. Before the accident, she was constantly restrained by the idea that anything which didn’t have a material benefit was in actuality not beneficial at all. Now, though, it was easy to see that simply being with Ty Lee, Zuko, and Iroh was far better than any award Azula had ever won for sports or academia. It was incredible to simply exist, to relax and think without having to stress about the value of what she was doing. 

Ty Lee seemed to take well to Azula’s more relaxed demeanor, too. She hardly seemed bothered by Azula’s limited mobility, although Azula had been absolutely certain that it would be a dealbreaker. She should have known better; Ty Lee never was a quitter, and she had a heart of gold. When she had faith in something, she stucky by it no matter what. Azula could only thank Ty Lee for having faith in her. 

Eventually, Ty Lee decided that it was time for them to go on a date once again. Azula had been hesitant initially; she loved Ty Lee and she had always loved being able to go out with her girlfriend and show her off, but she couldn’t help but to worry about the inevitable staring that would occur. She knew people would wonder about them, about her--they’d look at her with eyes wide and full of pity, shaking their heads as if to say  _ what a shame _ . Still, it hardly took any convincing at all when Ty Lee came over with a shopping bag and two dresses inside; one a beautiful pale pink and one a daring red, informing Azula that she’d gotten them specifically for date night. Then she’d turned her unfairly sweet eyes upon Azula and the girl had practically melted, rolling her eyes and sighing as she agreed to the date. Ty Lee had squealed with delight and flung her arms around Azula’s shoulders, already speaking excitedly about where she was going to take her. 

So, Azula went with Ty Lee to an Italian restaurant not far from her house and, to her surprise, she had a fantastic time. She couldn’t even bring herself to be too embarrassed about Ty Lee feeding her when her girlfriend looked as beautiful as she did then, her chin perched on the heel of her palm, gazing at Azula with big eyes full of adoration. 

After they left the restaurant, Ty Lee and Azula went back to Azula’s and promptly locked themselves in Azula’s room. They spoke easily to one another, throwing playfully flirtatious commentary back and forth as Ty Lee ran her hands, gentle and firm, along Azula’s shoulders and neck in a soothing massage. Eventually, her arms looped themselves around Azula’s neck and she leaned over her girlfriend’s shoulder, pecking her cheek. 

Frustrated by her inability to respond, Azula instructed Ty Lee to come closer and her girlfriend obliged, coming around front to press her lips to Azula’s. Admittedly, Azula hated the fact that she couldn’t wrap her arms around her girlfriend the way that she used to; it was torture not to be able to hold Ty Lee close, but she felt lucky to have such a wonderful woman by her side regardless. Not many would have stuck by Azula through the accident, let alone the years and years of antisocial and excessively competitive behavior that had accompanied their friendship in its earlier years. 

* * *

Often, when Azula was bored and Ty Lee wasn’t around, Iroh made tea for her and they sat together at the kitchen table. The first time Azula sat down with her uncle, she couldn’t help but to make some condescending comments about his sensitivity to nature and his gentle demeanor. She’d been taught all her life that it was wrong, that he was a weakling, and despite all that he’d done for her she still found it hard to totally erase said perception. Still, it quickly became clear that he wasn’t phased by her criticism. She’d thought at first that he was simply too cowardly to address it, but it quickly became clear that he, like Ty Lee, simply had an incredible amount of patience and confidence in himself.

Once, after Azula said something particularly cruel and apologized, ashamed of herself, Iroh smiled sagely. “It’s alright. Believe me, I heard all of it and more with Zuko,” he chuckled. 

Since then, Azula had grown more and more fond of him with each passing day. It didn’t take long for her to be completely charmed by her uncle’s happy demeanor and endless kindness. Within the span of two weeks the pair were throwing good-natured jokes back and forth, often leading to Azula laughing loudly over her cup of tea as she talked with her uncle. 

She could hardly believe how happy she was. Not only had she believed it was impossible to be happy after she’d discovered that she would likely be paralyzed for the rest of her life, but she’d also believed it totally impossible to tolerate her uncle and brother. Her father had made them sound so horrible, but the more time she spent with them the more that she realized that Ozai was the horrible one--and that she, too, had been awful and intolerable.

“I was so lost,” she said to her uncle one afternoon as she reflected on this idea. “I was cruel and spiteful and competitive, I… I was  _ awful _ .” 

Iroh shook his head and reached forward to rest a gentle hand on her shoulder. The touch was comforting and warm, seeming to burn through her physical form and melt immediately into her heart. “You weren’t,” he argued, but when she looked up at him and glared as if to say ‘ _ don’t lie to me _ ’ the corner of his mouth quirked upward and he added; “alright, maybe a little. But it wasn’t your fault. You understand that, don’t you?” 

“But it  _ is _ my fault. It was me who did those things, Uncle.”

“That is true; but it was a different version of you, Azula. A version of you who believed that kindness and love would lead to your destruction. I know it is hard to recognize that you were led astray, but think for a moment upon your father. He did everything in his power to make both you and Zuko associate kindness with destruction; and, when Zuko was kicked out, I am sure it only reaffirmed that in your mind.”

When Azula remained quiet, staring down at her teacup with her dark eyes itchy and red, Iroh leaned forward and gripped both of her shoulders. “Azula,” he continued, gently, “what your father did was inexcusable. Not only did he to something to your brother which no parent should ever do to their child--which no  _ person _ should ever do to another--but he did the same to you. A lack of physical scars does not mean that emotional ones do not exist. Those are, in fact, the hardest to heal. Your brother’s face healed quickly; his soul did not.” 

Finally Azula found the strength to raise her head and meet her Uncle’s gaze, tears swimming in her eyes. “But what if I can’t be better?”

Iroh looked almost offended by the question. “You can. Azula. You can.” 

* * *

The following weekend, Zuko informed Azula that his friends would be coming over for a sleepover later that day and that he would like her to meet them. Azula was surprised; she should have known her brother would have friends-- _ of course he would _ \--but he hadn’t ever mentioned them, and she remembered him being rather antisocial. Like her, Zuko had developed a hot temper early in middle school and had scared all of his classmates. Azula asked who his friends were and went pale in the face when Zuko listed off the names of several of the classmates she most frequently directed her anger and cruelty at.

“Zuko, I can’t--they hate me.” Azula told her brother. 

“What? No they don’t.” Zuko frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I was… I was horrible to them. All of them. I used to make fun of their friend group. How did you even meet them? You don’t go to school with them.”

“They come into the shop a lot. Azula, I promise you, they don’t hate you. Aang’s really excited to meet you.” Zuko said, and there was a slight flush to his pale cheeks as he spoke. 

“Aang?” Iroh asked as he rounded the corner and entered the living room. “Are you having a date night, Zuko?” 

Azula blinked in surprise and watched her brother’s face turn a brilliant shade of red. “Uncle!” He exclaimed, embarrassed, “no--I’m having everyone over to meet Azula.” 

“Wait, wait--are you  _ dating _ Aang?” Azula gaped. 

Zuko averted his eyes. “It’s not a big deal,” he huffed out, clearly embarrassed, “but yes.”

Azula couldn’t help but to laugh at that. The idea of Aang, the ever-cheerful, airheaded seventeen year old she’d often picked on dating her stoic, hot-tempered elder brother was completely ridiculous. She could hardly believe Zuko had it in him to date anyone--let alone the embodiment of sunshine itself. 

“Not a big deal? You and Aang are nearing your one year anniversary, Zuko,” Iroh said, causing his nephew to sputter indignantly. 

A knock at the door interrupted the teasing comment Azula was about to make and she immediately paled, turning her chair toward the door with wide eyes. “Zuko,” she said, “what if they don’t--”

Zuko was already walking to the front door. “They will, Azula, don’t worry.” He replied before opening it. 

“Zuko!” Came the happy voice of Aang immediately, and Azula watched in shock as the shorter boy leapt up and flung his arm around Zuko’s neck, planting a kiss on his lips. Even more shocking to Azula is the fact that Zuko doesn’t even hesitate to reciprocate, planting his hands on Aang’s slender waist to hold him aloft while he kissed him back. Aang pulled back and murmured something in Zuko’s ear, grinning all the while, and then Zuko was easing him to the ground and Aang bounded into the house. 

“Hi, Azula!” Aang greets, approaching her immediately. “How are you?”

Azula blinked up at him. “Er--I’m alright. And you?” She asks, somewhat sheepish. She could hardly comprehend how cheerful he was, especially with someone who had been so cruel to him in the not-so distant past. 

“I’m great, thanks! I’m so glad you’re here, by the way! Zuko was so excited when you moved in.”

Azula blinked, a pink tint coming to her cheeks. “He was?”

Aang nodded and opened his mouth to say more, but stopped when Katara came to stand behind him, resting her hand on his shoulder. 

“Aang, how about you let the rest of us say ‘hi’?” She asked, patiently amused. 

“Oh, right!” Aang nodded sheepishly and stepped back, allowing the rest of Zuko’s friends to spill into the room and surround Azula. 

Katara was the first to approach her, settling herself in a chair to Azula’s right. “Hi, Azula. It’s good to see you.” 

“Yeah, we’re super glad you’re here! Zuko was excited to have you home,” said another girl, who Azula identified as Suki, a girl a grade above her who, if she remembered correctly, was dating Katara’s older brother. 

As if on cue, said boy appeared, settling at Suki’s side and slipping a tan arm around her waist. “Hey, Azula, ‘s good to see you. I’m Sokka.”

“Er--I-I remember…” Azula said, embarrassed. 

“Of course she remembers us, Sokka, she only picked on us every day for two years,” said a new voice and the group parted a bit to allow a short, dark-haired girl whom Azula instantly recognized as Toph Beifong to approach. 

“Toph!” Katara scolded, frowning disapprovingly down at the girl despite knowing that Toph couldn’t tell. 

“What? I’m just stating the facts.” 

“She’s right,” Azula said, lowering her head in shame, “I… I was awful to you all and I know that. ’m not proud of who I was, and I don’t expect any forgiveness, but I’m… I’m sorry. Really.”

“Hey, no hard feelings! Zuko was a jerk when we first met him too. Maybe it’s genetic!” Toph said, laughing loudly. 

“Yeah, Azula, no worries! We’re just happy you’re alright now.” Katara said, and Azula was shocked when the girl rested a gentle hand on her shoulder and gave her a soft smile. 

To Azula’s surprise, the rest of the group continued to reassure her, explaining how happy they were for her to have taken a new path. Azula looked around at the happy group of people her brother had managed to befriend--people who wanted to be friends with her in return--and she swore she could practically feel her heart melting. 


	4. Not All Bad

Azula gazed out her bedroom window, dark eyes flickering along the treeline that borders her home, dread settling in the pit of her stomach. She’d been seated by the window for almost forty-five minutes, lost in thought. It had been several months since her accident--summer had come and went, the early days of fall taking its place. With fall, of course, came school--Azula’s junior year and the cause of her current distress. 

For the past two weeks now she and her friends had spoken both nervously and excitedly about the impending start of the school year. Aang, Katara and Suki were all seniors this year, and seemed to be glad to be in their last year. Toph, like Ty Lee and Azula, would be going into her junior year and often lamented the fact that she still had another two years to go. Sokka and Zuko, who had both graduated last spring, seemed content to taunt the rest of the group with their diplomas, rubbing their completion of high school in with smug smirks and teasing comments. 

With her friends, Azula pretended she wasn’t nervous at all. When asked by Katara what she was most anxious about, Azula had laughed aloud and replied proudly, “there’s nothing to be anxious about! It’s just another school year!” to which the rest of the group had laughed, seeming to admire her confidence. 

But inside, Azula was  _ terrified _ . School was starting soon--that meant that she’d have nowhere to hide. She was certain all of her classmates already knew of her injury and condition, but most of them hadn’t actually _ seen _ her. Once school started, she’d have to go every day, being seen by countless people. People she’d once taught to fear her would probably look down upon her now, laughing about her behind her back. They’d all judge her, and she didn’t know if she was ready for it yet or not. She’d grown used to her life for the most part, but she knew that school would bring about new challenges and issues for her to face. 

“Azula?” 

Eyes darting open--Azula hadn’t realized she’d closed them--Azula looked up and caught the reflection of her girlfriend in the glass, staring straight at her. Immediately some of her worries lessened and she quickly used the mouthpiece to turn her chair around and face her girlfriend. 

“Is everything okay?” Ty Lee asked as she came forward. “You looked upset.”

“Of course it is! I’m fine, Ty Lee. I was just lost in thought.” Azula lied. 

Ty Lee frowned, obviously not believing it. “I won’t pressure you, but you know that you can tell me anything, right? If you ever need help, I want you to be able to come to me.”

Azula’s heart melted as she looked into her girlfriend’s beautiful face, her eyes swimming with sincerity and her worry painfully clear. Azula smiled reassuringly and shook her head. “I know, and thank you. I promise I’ll let you know if I ever need you. It’s nothing.”

Ty Lee nodded, albeit reluctantly, and leaned in to give her girlfriend a kiss. Azula smiled against her lips, feeling better the instant they touched. How could she possibly be upset when kissing the most gorgeous woman in the world? 

When Ty Lee pulled back she seemed happier too. “So, are you ready to paint?” She asked. 

“I haven’t changed yet, but other than that, yeah.”

“Do you want my help or should I get Zuko?” Ty Lee asked although she already knew the answer. 

“No; I want you, if that’s alright.” Azula replied immediately. At first she’d been embarrassed to ask her girlfriend for help even though she knew Ty Lee didn’t mind. She’d been ashamed at the fact that she couldn’t do even the most simple things alone, that she had to ask for help to change her clothes. But Ty Lee was endlessly patient and kind, and after helping Azula change in and out of different outfits Azula had finally become comfortable enough to call on Ty Lee when she was needed. 

“Of course,” Ty Lee replied cheerfully. “Let me grab your paint clothes,” she said as she approached Azula’s dresser and began carelessly rummaging through her drawers, extracting a t-shirt and shorts after a moment. 

“You unfolded like, half of the things that were in there,” Azula said, jokingly annoyed. 

Ty Lee flashed her a grin. “Oops. Guess I’ll just have to stay a little later and refold everything,” she said, batting her eyelashes in faux innocence. 

Azula grinned rakishly and rolled her eyes, “you’re the worst.”

Ty Lee only laughed as she came forward, taking Azula’s shirt from the bottom and gently pulling it off. She quickly replaced it with Azula’s ‘paint shirt’-- a t-shirt that had once been white, but was now so thoroughly covered in paint it was closer to a tie-dye. Ty Lee followed suit with Azula’s jeans, helping her out of them and easing her into a pair of old shorts, also splattered with a fair amount of paint. 

“Thanks,” Azula said with a smile, and Ty Lee responded by giving her yet another gentle kiss before pulling back. 

“Okay, now are you ready?” Ty Lee asks and Azula nods, so Ty Lee goes to the door and opens it for Azula, allowing her to lead the way. Azula uses the mouthpiece to steer her chair out of the room and down the hall to another door, this one open, and goes inside. 

The room, empty prior to Azula’s arrival, had been converted to a small makeshift art studio two months prior when Azula had taken an interest in painting after watching a quadriplegic woman painting with her mouth online. Azula had sheepishly asked her uncle for some watercolor paint and canvas, to which he had excitedly agreed. Azula had been skeptical about whether or not she would like it, but it hardly took five minutes of painting for her to realize how much she loved it. She didn’t think she was very good, but it was a creative outlet that allowed her to explore talents that she’d never previously been able to, especially since her father hadn’t seen the value in the creative arts. 

Iroh was enormously proud of Azula and all of her paintings; much to her embarrassment, she frequently encountered him hanging up new pieces of hers around the shop or pointing them out to guests. Ty Lee was proud as well and had started a blog for Azula where she posted pictures of all of Azula’s paintings. Zuko and her friends had been enchanted by Azula’s new ability, with Aang practically begging her to make him something someday. 

Thus, Azula going off to paint had become a regular occurence in the house, as well as Ty Lee joining her. Azula loved sitting across from her girlfriend, occasionally peeking out from behind her canvas to see what Ty Lee was doing. They always sat with their canvases facing away from each other when they painted, as Ty Lee claimed to like the surprise of seeing Azula’s completed painting at the end. Azula didn’t care much for surprises, but the delighted look on Ty Lee’s face when her girlfriend saw her latest piece never ceased to make her heart flutter.

“So, what are you going to paint today?” Ty Lee asked.

Azula quirked an eyebrow at her and grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

Ty Lee giggled. “Fine, fine, I’ll wait.”

“You know, it was your idea to keep them secret until the end,” Azula laughed as Ty Lee helped adjusted a makeshift elevated platform which Azula’s paints and water could be easily reached with so she didn’t have to ask every time she needed a new color. There was also a small divot where Azula could rest her paintbrush when she wanted to stop and look at her painting for a moment--again, so that she didn’t have to ask for someone to put the brush back in her mouth each time she took it out. 

“Well, the mystery makes it fun, doesn’t it?” Ty Lee asked, smiling brightly at Azula. 

“There are a lot of things that make it fun, but I’d put you above mystery,” Azula said smoothly, grinning up at her girlfriend. Ty Lee’s face lit up and she bent down, kissing Azula’s cheek and making Azula feel as though she’d just won the lottery. 

“Alright, I’m gonna get started,” Ty Lee said as she walked to her easel, positioned opposite of Azula, and perched herself on the stool in front of it. 

From there, a peaceful quiet took over the room. Nearly an hour and a half later, Azula deemed herself satisfied with her painting and peeked out from behind her canvas to find that Ty Lee was watching her, a small smile on her face and obviously having been done with hers for a moment. 

Azula’s face went red. “What?”

Ty Lee sighed dreamily. “You’re just so gorgeous.” That stunned Azula into silence long enough for Ty Lee to begin giggling. “Can I see yours now?”

“Yours first,” Azula commanded. 

Ty Lee obliged, lifting her canvas off the easel and turning it around to show Azula. She’d painted a beautiful landscape of a mountain. It wasn’t perfect, but she was already beginning to improve, and Azula loved that she had a girlfriend who was willing to try new things with her, especially with such bright enthusiasm. 

“It’s beautiful, Ty Lee. I think Uncle will want to hang it up.” Azula grinned. 

“Ahhh, I don’t know about that! I could’ve done better with the colors, and the shadows definitely aren’t right…”

As if on cue, Iroh poked his head into the doorway. “I thought I heard you, Ty Lee. How are you--oh! Ty Lee, that is a beautiful painting! May I put it up in the shop?” 

Azula and Ty Lee exchanged a glance at each other, both biting at their lips to hold back laughter. Ty Lee smiled sweetly at Iroh, “of course! Thank you so much!”

“May I see yours, Azula?” Iroh asked, looking to his niece. 

Azula nodded and both Iroh and Ty Lee approached her, walking around to face the canvas. Ty Lee’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of it and then she brought a perfectly manicured hand to her heart. Iroh was smiling at the canvas, his eyes twinkling with obvious approval. 

“It’s me,” Ty Lee said, her voice light and airy. 

Azula nodded and looked up to Ty Lee. “Do you like it?”

Ty Lee met her gaze and Azula delighted in the fact that her cheeks were red, eyes watery. “I  _ love _ it,” she said breathily before leaning down and catching Azula’s lips. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Iroh said with a chuckle before leaving the room. 

* * *

Sometimes, Zuko and his friends came over. Azula always invited Ty Lee, who was immediately liked by everyone in their group for her cheerful demeanor and kind attitude.

“Seriously, how did the angst siblings each manage to lock down an actual ray of sunshine?” Toph asked the group one day. 

“I know, right?” Sokka replied, leaning from his position draped across Suki’s lap to nudge Zuko’s elbow. “How  _ did _ you manage to charm Aang?” 

Zuko’s face went beet red, “I, um.”

Aang beamed and slung an arm across Zuko’s shoulders. “Well, it all started when he asked to have weekly study dates,” he said with a smile. 

“Twinkle toes, we’ve heard this story a million times,” Toph interrupted.

“I wanna hear Azula and Ty Lee’s story,” Katara said with an encouraging smile. 

Azula went a bit red, but Ty Lee smiled. “Well, at first Azula and I were best friends. We met in elementary school. I think she saw me as competition for the first few years of our friendship!” She giggled. “But one day we went to a dance and I was complaining that the person I wanted to dance with wasn’t asking me, and she wasn’t getting the hint, so I finally admitted that it was her. She’s so cute when she’s flustered; but she made sure I knew that she liked me, too. We’ve been together ever since!” Ty Lee gushed, both of her hands to her heart and looking as though she were in a daydream. 

A smile crept to Azula’s face at the memory of the night they’d first gotten together, but it quickly dissipated as she thought further on that moment. They’d been at a school dance, swaying together to the music--something Azula could never do again. She’d never hold Ty Lee in her arms again, she’d never get to step on her girlfriend’s feet again. Her eyes went downcast without her intention, suddenly upset. 

Zuko was the first to notice, reaching out to rest his hand atop of his younger sister’s. “Azula? Are you alright?” He questioned, and every pair of eyes in the room--excluding Toph’s--immediately went to her face, concerned. 

“I-I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head and forcing a smile onto her face. She knew it must have been pathetic, because everyone’s concern only seemed to grow at the sight. 

“Azula, you can tell us if anything’s wrong,” said Suki. 

“Yeah! We’re here for you!” Added Aang. 

“What they said,” Toph said. 

Ty Lee rested her hand on Azula’s shoulder and looked down at her with concern. “Azula?” She asked, raising an expectant brow. 

“I-It’s just… Nothing will ever be the same now,” Azula said. “I--thinking of that night made me realize that school is going to be so different now. I can’t go to a school dance and dance with Ty Lee anymore, and when we’re together everyone will stare. They’ll make fun of me and judge me.”

“If anyone tried to make fun of you, they’d have another thing coming,” said Toph, cracking her knuckles for emphasis. 

“Definitely,” Katara affirmed. “But don’t worry, Azula, that won’t happen. It’ll be different, sure, but that doesn’t mean it has to be bad. Right?”

Despite herself, Azula felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. God, when had she gotten so weak? She forced her head down, desperate to spare herself the embarrassment of having her friends see her cry. “I--I know, but… I-I can’t be who I used to be. They’re all going to see me as some kind of weakling.”

“Now, that’s just not true,” argued Suki gently. “Azula, regardless of what you can and can’t do physically, you are  _ not _ weak. You have the sharpest wit out of anyone in this room! You’re clever and smart, and I have no doubt that you’ll hold your own just fine against anyone who tries to get in your way.”

Sokka nodded in agreement. “I’d be scared to see someone try.”

“Yeah! Azula, c’mon, you’re way too cool to let what a few people think get you down. You’re strong!” 

“Yeah! And when you feel like you aren’t, we’re all here.” Ty Lee reassured. 

Zuko gazed intently at his younger sister. “We love you, Azula,” he said, sounding so painfully sincere that Azula’s heart ached. 

She couldn’t help but to choke on a sob then, but to her surprise her tears had morphed into ones of joy. She wasn’t sure how she’d ever gotten lucky enough to have such supportive and amazing friends, but she knew that she’d work hard every single day to meet their expectations. If they believed in her, she could believe in herself.

Azula raised her head and Zuko’s expression softened. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his sister. Ty Lee followed suit, then Aang, then Katara, and before a moment the whole group had surrounded Azula, their arms wrapped around each other and giggling as they hugged. Azula glanced up into their smiling faces, heart light and her mind eased. 

For the first time in her life, she knew everything would be alright. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission for the lovely @milleniumrex, who came up with this amazing idea. For info on my commissions, please feel free to visit my tumblr at @afjakwrites!


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